Page 18 of Pack of Crooks
“Mother fuckers! Those are mine!” Maddox growls.
Laughing, we move in opposite directions until Maddox’s head swivels between us. His eyes narrow, and his fists clench and unclench four times.
“Sharing is caring,” I remind him. “And once we find her, you’ll have to share.” I catch Ezra’s gaze, but there’s no jealousy or fear. He knows an omega won’t change what we have, only enhance it, give the relationship more depth. Plus, I can’t help picturing her choking on his cock while I fuck her from behind.
Ezra’s eyes hood, as if sensing my filthy thoughts.
Maddox huffs and curses under his breath before stiffly walking to the island. He rips open the plastic container and grabs the biggest strawberry in the batch before taking a giant bite. He chews like he’s trying to destroy the fruit, swallowing like it physically pains him.
“Still hate them then?” Ezra asks before lifting one to his nose and inhaling. “So close,” he murmurs. Excitement swims inside of me as he teases his tongue along the tip and takes a delicate bite, throat working as he swallows. My cock hardens.
He’s such a tease.
Without answering, Maddox takes another aggressive bite, chest rumbling despite the way his features twist together. He has a thing about texture.
Shaking my head at both of their reactions, I carefully open my own container, cradling it to my chest, and pluck the prettiest one, holding it up to the light. “This won’t work,” I tell them both.
“I know,” Maddox says on a sigh.
I lower the fruit, breathing deep, hating that it’s not quite the right scent and crush it in my hand. Red juice bursts between my fingers, dripping down my hand and forearm like blood. “We’ll find her,” I assure them both.
That’s the only option. Once we get her, I’ll taste and take and consume until her essence lives inside of me. Until my own scent is coated with hers.
She will be ours.
Heart, mind, soul.
But more importantly, we’ll be hers.
I wake up with blood everywhere. My body is covered in splotches of red. The sheets. Fuck. I pat my hands all over, searching for the wound, whatever caused enough blood loss to make me fall asleep. I haven’t really slept in weeks. Sometimes I catch an hour, if I’m lucky, maybe two.
But it’s eight in the morning.
The last time I looked at the clock, it was nearly two.
What the fuck happened? I go onto my knees, anticipating pain, but it never comes. And then I see them. Crushed strawberries. The once juicy fruits smashed. Destroyed. The juices, the bright red stains.
It’s not blood.
Shaking my head, I run my hands over my face, inhaling the faintly sweet and tarty scent coating my palms. Now I remember. Maddox and Ezra like to sleep, and after we spent hours coming up with a plan, I retreated to my room and proceeded to squeeze every last drop of juice out of the strawberries until my room was filled with sweetness.
It must have been enough to lull me to sleep.
A soft knock sounds on my door. “Come in,” I say, clearing my throat to smooth the rasp.
Ezra appears, wearing low slung jeans that reveal a tantalizing V-shape. His hair is still damp from a shower, and those rich brown eyes roam over the mess I’ve made, a grin tugging at his lips. “Morning.”
“Sleep well?” I ask, climbing off the bed, smirking when his gaze falls to my boxers and the semi filling them out.
“Yeah,” he rasps, forcing his focus up as I stride toward him. His breath hitches when I catch his throat and push him against the door frame, resting my forearm above his head. The pounding of his pulse beats against my fingers.
My beta loves to be pinned like this.
Breathing in his rich fudgy scent, I rub my cheek against his, purring as he tips his head to give me better access. “Such a good boy,” I murmur, catching his mouth with mine, tracing the seam of his soft lips. Ezra relents, opening for me, sighing as I taste him.
His fingers roam over my abs, rough palms smoothing over my skin, creating a trail of heat as his hand travels down. Hesitantly, he wraps his hand around me.
A groan rattles out of my throat and I break the kiss, resting my forehead against his, searching his dark gaze as he tests his grip, stroking a few times. Fuck, it’s been so long since he’s been able to touch me without overthinking.
